


Closing the Circuit

by Tanachvil



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Reader-Insert, Sam is a goofball, Sex Magic, Tumblr: dirtysupernaturalimagines, Voyeurism, but really mild, sort of, until he's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 16:50:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4067395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanachvil/pseuds/Tanachvil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters need help to find and perform a very complex spell. The reader is a witch that happens to owe them and comes to their call, but things get complicated…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing the Circuit

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the dirtysupernaturalimagine blog on tumblr, so it'a a reader-insert fic. I never tried this before and I have to say: it's fun! It's kind of liberating: you don't have to worry about how it's just an excuse to have fun with the characters and imagine them doing the nasty, or if the character is a self insert (even if it’s not the writer’s self) because, well, that’s pretty much the point!  
> I might do more of these in the future...

You should have known nothing good could come from a spell that Crowley had suggested.  
You had had your business with the King, a couple of times (make it half a dozen), but it always lead to a lot of dangerous flirting, a generous amount of him scaring the shit out of you and ultimately, nothing good. 

At least you never had to sell your soul: you traded in favours, errands, mostly disgusting stuff, dangerous and once or twice just plain wrong. You always told yourself that is was going to be the last time, but when things got rough, the King always had a good bargain ready and the solution to your problems at hand. For a price, obviously.

This time wasn’t different, not completely at last.

When the Winchester called you, your first instinct was to drop your phone in a ditch and run, change name - again - and disappear from their radar. But you owed them: they had come to your rescue, last year, and they still saved you after they found out you were a witch. That counted for more than something, in their line of work.  
They were dangerous, possibly planning to off you, as soon as you did something even remotely dodgy, and always involved in stuff that was monumentally messy. The apocalyptic level of messy. You still had no idea of how much of that story was real… Rumor had it that they had caused and stopped the end of the world, but you really believed all the stuff you heard about it was mostly gossip and bragging. Still, even if a fraction of that was true, it was still impressive. So, when Sam called you, you sighed and told them you could find the spell they needed and help them perform it.

In retrospect, that was not entirely wise.

Research took you three days and you were seriously starting to think that kind of spell wasn’t possible to find, even for you.  
When you told Sam, on the phone, he sounded more angry than defeated, but you could hear there was a hint of panic in his voice, something you really, really never want to hear in the voice of someone who hunted monsters for a living.

 

“How serious is the situation here, Sam?” 

“Very. If we can’t find that spell and make it work, things are going to get really nasty.”

 

You didn’t need to hear more.  
It was time for a chat with His Snarkiness. Again.

Crowley, of course, was more than happy to help, as usual. You didn’t tell him what or whom you needed the spell for, but you suspected he knew anyway.  
He made the usual deal, but didn’t specify what he would have asked of you, this time.

“Let’s say that you owe me one, love. I’ll let you know when I need your expertise and you’ll come to do your job, no question asked. Deal?”

To say you weren’t happy about it was the understatement of the century… Being on the call list of the King of Hell was bad enough, but owing him a non-restricted call for a non-specified job to be done in the near future, was way worse.

You were going to regret this, but you had the spell, and now it needed to be decoded properly, interpreted, and prepared.  
If Crowley hadn’t lied (and he usually didn’t) it was going to need special ingredients and a lot of prep work. Luckily, the Winchester didn’t lack resources or the will to steal, threaten and fight their way into what they needed.

 

You were invited to meet them on a side road, they would take you to their _supersecret hiding place_ , but only after knocking you out, Dean had said, for precaution. Sedatives, not a blow to the head, Sam had specified. Yeah, thanks guys…  
It sucked, but you weren’t complaining much: after all, if you had a supersecret lair, you wouldn’t want the Winchester to know where it was and how to reach it either.

The bunker’s library had all you needed to decode and prepare the spell, and you set to work as soon as the effect of the sedative wore off.  
Sam was helping a lot, putting together the references for the translation, and giving you insights that were making you work faster and easier. Really, with a natural talent like that, you wondered, not for the first time, why had he never thought about magic in a less casual way.  
Then you realized why, just as you deciphered the next paragraph of the spell… This was going to become really unpleasant.

 

“Oh shit…” you couldn’t help letting it out. Everything was going so smoothly until now! You should have figured it was going to get nasty, sooner or later.

“What?” Sam was beside you in a second, looking at the parchment from above.

 

You sighed, pointed at the third paragraphs of ingredients for the spell and waited for Sam to translate them in his head.

 

“Oh shit…” It took him less than a minute.

“Yeah… Exactly. I should have known… It’s not uncommon, with these kind of rituals, and to raise this amount of power is that or… Well, this is usually it. Easier. Cleaner.”

“Cleaner? What the hell are you talking about,_____!” he was looking at you with an expression you really didn’t like and he had raised his voice enough that it echoed in the the library. “This spell asks for a blood sacrifice… and not just any blood, a fucking human sacrifice!”

“I know, Sam!” you shouted back.

 

You knew it was bad, of course, but you were just trying to be professional, here. It made you mad when someone pointed out the obvious and it made you mad when someone interpreted your coldness for lack of care. When it was both things, you really couldn’t stand it.  
You cared, of course you did, but if there was no other way, what were you supposed to do?

 

“We are not draining someone to death for this spell! It’s not gonna happen!”

“Then we’re fucked, Sam!”

 

He looked angry, then suddenly deflated, like all of his energy had left him, and he collapsed on the chair beside you, taking his head between his hands.

“There must be another way around this… There usually is. Spell’s ingredients are not set in stone, we just have to… Wait a second!” He grabbed your wrist, making you jump on your seat. “You said this was the cleaner option, the easier one! What’s the messy one?”

You shook your head, while trying to retrieve your arm from his grip.

“No, no, Sam, I’m sorry. That requires some pretty impossible stuff to get in such a short notice, even for you.”

“But it’s an alternative to a blood sacrifice?” he asked you, with a slightly manic tone in his voice.

“Yeah, technically, but we have to see if the spell allows the substitution, and then you guys probably won’t like the idea much, I have to warn you.”

“So let’s see if it’s possible, come on! How can I help?”

 

He finally let go of your wrist, with an apologetic smile, and pulled the parchment from the table.  
“We need to finish the translation and then… then we’ll need some more research.”  
You both set to work immediately.  
You were sure Crowley was laughing his ass off, somewhere between Hell and there.

 

It was three in the morning when you finished decoding every inch of the parchment, and Sam looked tired, but definitely more relaxed than four hours before.  
The spell was modifiable, the blood sacrifice could be avoided, but you had no great hope about it. What you’d need to get and do for the ritual to work with the substitution, was really much more complicated than killing some poor bastard. You didn’t say that out loud, anyway, you knew there was no need: Sam would have understood that soon enough by himself.

Dean had called two hours before, he was coming back from the supply run you sent him to, and he was going to bring half of the ingredients you needed for the spell. The rest was already in the bunker’s storage and everything would have been perfect if the alternative for the sacrifice had not been something incredibly awkward and, more important, pretty unlikely to happen.

“OK, Sam” you started “That’s it.”

“It’s… uhm… ok, it’s not what I would have expected, but I guess it makes sense.”

“Yeah, it’s… you know, life and death are linked pretty tightly in magic, and sacrifices often are good either way, but this spell needs a pretty big boost of power to work, so it’s not your usual kind of deal.”

“I get that. So, what do we need exactly? If I’m not completely fried with exhaustion I think I got the life part…”

“Yes… that. And it’s going to require a lot of energy, not just…uhm, you know.”

“Ok, ok, I get it. But what’s this catalyst thing you scribbled about, here?” he pointed at your notes for the modified spell.  
Time for the cold shower: this was going to suck.

“That’s what I was talking about, Sam. Blood sacrifices are bad, but they are easy, and they unleash a great amount of power all at once. Other acts can do that as well, and it’s usually enough, but in this case we need a catalyst, something that will…uhm, let’s say ignite the power and sync it to the…frequency of the spell, so to speak.”

“Ok, good, and what’s that?”

“Something impossible to get, Sam…”

“Oh, fuck, just tell me already, would you?” He was growing impatient, and worried, you could see that. no point in delaying the bad news any longer.

“We need an angel, Sam.”

He looked at you like you suddenly had sprouted a second head, but there was something more, something that you couldn’t decipher properly, in his eyes.

“An angel?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. An angel, a proper angel, one of the Heavenly Host, to channel the power of the spell and direct it while I do my thing and someone helps me creating the right energy for the sacrifice.” He kept looking at you, but now there was a glint of something different in his eyes, something… you could have said it was the beginning of a smile.

“Are you even listening to me, Sam? We’re back to square one! We need an angel to make this thing work, and those things are powerful and really hard to summon without them smiting you… I really don’t think you have one on speed dial for emergencies!”

 

“We’re back!” You heard Dean’s voice from behind you, and his footsteps on the wooden floor. “And if I heard right, we’re just in time for the party!”

You turned around to see Dean walking towards you and Sam, with another guy a few steps behind him. He was wearing a tan trenchcoat and he had piercing blue eyes. Your skin buzzed a bit, like it always did when you were in the presence of something powerful.

“Hey Cas, this is _____, our witch on call. This is Cas, the Angel on our shoulder.”

You stared at the man with an expression that you were sure was nothing graceful nor dignified.

“Angel? You… He is…?”

The man in the trenchcoat offered you a nod and took a couple of steps ahead, before speaking with a gravely voice “Hello, yes. I am Castiel, and if I’m not mistaken, you will need my help.”

You closed your mouth and turned back to Sam. The idiot gave you a grin and a shrug, like it was no biggie. They had an angel, a real angel, on speed dial.  
Fucking Winchesters… 

And speaking of fucking Winchesters…

You really didn’t had the time to think about what you were supposed to do until that moment, because, really, you had not considered the option of an angel at your service, but now shit was getting real.  
This was not the first time you had to perform a spell that involved sex, but having to do it with a hunter while an Angel watched, was going to be… well, awkward was an understatement.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean was wiping his hands clean from the chalk he just used to trace the third layer of sigils around the room. “Cas has to stay here and work his mojo around the spell while you get up close and personal with one of us? Kinky…”

You looked at him and gave up trying not to smile. With all the tension that had built in the last thirty minutes, you welcomed Dean’s jokes and innuendos and you could use all the light hearted comments you could get. You knew Dean was doing it on purpose, trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation into something more playful, and you were thankful for that. 

Sam was grinding herbs in the mortar with silent determination, careful not to make eye contact with anyone, and Castiel… Well, the angel seemed perfectly at ease in the situation, but you couldn’t tell if it was all pretence or if he really was untouched by the tension that was building in the room.

 

“Yeah, Dean, thanks for the reminder, really!” It was time to decide on the last details and then get on with the plan. “And since you mentioned it… It’s time you two boys decide who’s going to get into the circle. We are not in a hurry, but we better get a move anyways…”

“Wait… We can’t decide that!” Sam said, interrupting you mid sentence. “I mean, it’s not really our decision to make, right?”

You spun around to look at Sam, and in that moment you really, really liked him. In all that mess of spells and possible impending doom, he had stopped to think about your right to choose between options. It was all really awkward and fucked up, but his will to try and respect your choice as much as possible really made you feel a little better.  
Not that sleeping with either one of the Winchesters was such a horrifying fate… You really couldn’t complain on their looks and you had to admit the whole witch-and-hunter scenario had popped up in your fantasies more than once, in the past, after meeting them for the first time.  
Still, you really liked to choose your bed partners out of mutual attraction or on the spur of the moment, not basing your choice on some spell specifics.

Unfortunately, you were not going to have the luxury of a choice. The spell called for some human on human action, or, power-wise, the angel would have been your first choice (and _that_ would have been a really uncomfortable request to make), and every time you had accidentally touched Dean in the last day, you had felt something strange, like a dormant form of energy, coming from him. You needed to go through a little interview process…

“Thanks, Sam, I appreciate it.” You made sure he got from your tone how sincere you were in that moment, even if you had to be quick about it. “But it’s not really a choice as much as a process of elimination… I have to ask you both a couple of questions and you have to answer honestly, understood?”

Both of them nodded, and you noticed they were both slightly uncomfortable, but it didn’t look like it was for the same reason.

You decided it was best to go on without any further awkward delay.

“Ok, let’s go then…”  
You got past the routine checks without any nasty surprise: both boys were healthy, not cursed, apparently, even if Dean had made a comment about Sam’s luck with the ladies being really bad, but the angel assured you that there were no medical or magical conditions that prevented the two hunters from helping you in the ritual. Dean made another comment, urging Castiel to stay out of his pants that made the angel look confused and then you had to ask your last question.

“Is there any sort of influence, and I’m talking magic, here, supernatural stuff, not alcohol or things like that, that could make you a little different from human? I know this is none of my business, guys, but you’re hunters… I have to check. No creature bites? Vamp blood? Recent demonic possession…” The strange energy that you noticed coming from Dean suddenly felt very real and very strong, even if you were not touching him at all and he was sitting on one of the crates stacked in the bunker, on the other side of the basement room.

“Ok, like… What the hell was that?”

You looked him directly in the eye and you saw his reaction. Dean knew perfectly well that something was going on inside him, he just didn’t want to share it with the class. Perfect.

“Dean… this is important: what the hell it’s going on with you?”

The look you got from him was slightly terrifying and, for lack of better words, since you really didn’t understand what was going on, you’d have called it angry.

And then, they told you.

The Mark of Cain, for fuck sake!  
Not exactly your everyday dime store curse, here… You spent a couple of minutes gaping between Dean, Sam and the angel.  
Were they all crazy, here? And while you were thinking about it, were you not as crazy as them? And, most importantly, did they not understand that, when you talked about magical influences and necessary precautions for the spell, the fucking Mark of Cain was something that it was wise to mention to the witch that was going to put all that show into motion? Were they completely stupid or what?

“…completely stupid or what?”

Whoops. You didn’t mean to say all that out loud, but you evidently did. Well, it was too late to stop now.

“When I say that this spell is dangerous, I’m not talking about a headache and some hangover-like symptoms, ok? We need to get this right or we’re screwed, and if what you tell me is true, the rest of the world is too. So please don’t make me ask again, because, really, I need to know if there is anything else going on…” you turned to look at Sam “… before we end up screwing this up big time. And let’s stop wasting our time, seriously, because if I tell you the spell needs two humans to perform it, you can’t just casually forget to tell me that one of you is practically a dem-”

 

“Enough.” The angel didn’t raise his voice, but it really wasn’t necessary. You stopped talking immediately, just as Dean stormed out of the room.  
Sam stood up, then stopped where he was, when the angel walked towards the hallway where Dean had disappeared a moment before. Castiel turned around, just before leaving the cellar, and looked directly at you.  
“I’ll go after him. It’s better if you both stay here and get ready to perform the ritual.”  
And with that, he left you and Sam alone.

 

“____, listen…”

You turned to face him and you saw concern in his eyes, but also something else you couldn’t identify precisely. It looked like he was… Yep. He was seriously pissed, like really angry at something.  
Oh, hell, was being constantly mad at something a genetic trait for those two?  
Right now you just hoped he wasn’t mad at you, because, even if angry sex was awesome, under the right circumstances, you needed him focused and possibly not homicidal in the next few hours.

 

“… I’m sorry we dragged you into this mess,” he went on. “but… It would be best if this Mark of Cain business remained between us.”

“Yeah… sure, I can understand.”

“Really, ____, less people know about that, the better.”

 

You were going to answer that, of course, you understood, and then it dawned on you.

“Oh shit! You’re going to kill me, after this is done, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, FUCK! I should have known this was a bad idea!”

You started panicking for real and you tried to make it to the hallway. Maybe if you got to the door upstairs, you could run fast enough to get to the woods and then…

“What… no! ____, no, please, calm down!”

 

Sam walked towards you with his hands raised and came between you and your way out. You stepped back, not wishing to have a collision with a giant Winchester, and really starting to consider options that were not nice nor clean to assure your escape from that place.

“____, stop it! No one is going to kill you! I just wanted to be sure you understood how serious this thing was and… Really, ____ ? What sort of people do you think we are?”

You looked at him and didn’t feel much safer, but all the rage in his eyes seemed gone, now, and you started to relax a little.

“Uhm… I don’t know… Hunters?”

“Yeah…exactly. We save people, you know?”

“No you don’t. Not from my point of view. Not exactly…”

Sam was taken aback, he gave you a questioning look.

“Listen, Sam, I get it: you have you job… mission, whatever, and you’re the good guys. But for us out there… Hunters killed a lot of my people, Sam, and not only the ones who were doing dodgy stuff or hurting innocents and all that. They killed my friend Chris just because she was a witch, no question asked, no need to find out if it was actually her fault the people in her town were dying. Nope. They just killed and moved on. So…”

“Come on…You deal with demons! And you were willing to make a blood sacrifice!”

“For a spell that YOU asked me to find! A spell, might I add, that you told me to find at all costs and that I had to bargain with the King of Hell for!”

Sam looked down and didn’t try to interrupt you again, so you went on.

“And you’re about to perform that spell with me, a spell that will cost me a favor to _Crowley_ \- and fuck knows what nasty mess that will be - and fuck me in front of an angel, while your brother, the bearer of the Mark of Cain, stands guard… So, really, Sam, try not to be so fucking judgmental if you can, or we’re going to start keeping scores here!”

Silence fell between you two and you didn’t want to break it first. So you just sat down, falling onto one of the crates you had moved to make room for the sigils.

 

Now that you both had calmed down, you felt like you needed to make things clear and sort it all out between you two. You didn’t want to be performing a spell that complex while worrying about what Sam was really thinking about, while you were in the middle of it. You were looking for the right thing to say, but he spoke first

“I’m sorry.” he walked towards you very slowly. “I was a jerk, _____, sorry. You’re here to help us, you’re here because we asked you, I’m angry, and frustrated and I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

You desperately needed to lighten the mood, so when you saw an opportunity, you took it.

“Oh, you’re going to take it out on me all right…” You smiled your best flirty smile at him and you saw him smile back, almost on instinct, but a little surprised. He immediately looked away and wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, even if he had no trace of chalk left on his fingers.

“That was…” he shook his head, looking down, and his hair fell on his face, so that you couldn’t tell if he was still smiling or not. “Listen, really, this is kinda awkward and…”

You stepped closer to him and put your hand on his chest. He reacted like you had just electrocuted him a bit, but didn’t step away.

“Sam, it’s ok. Now you listen to me: I’m sorry about what’s happening in your family. I can’t even begin to imagine how screwed up things are for you two right now. I’m sorry for what I said before. It was true, but it’s really not your fault and I like you and Dean… you guys are OK, you really are the good guys and that’s why I’m here to help you, even if it’s a really bad idea. This is going to be… Awkward, yes, but it’s all right.”  
You stood on tiptoes and put your arms around his neck. It really wasn’t comfortable, but you needed to make a statement.  
“It’s going to be all right, and we’re going to ace this spell, and then we can spend the rest of our lives teasing the hell out of each other about that time we saved the world by screwing on a basement floor with an angelic peeping tom!”

He laughed, and finally relaxed, hunching down a bit, so that you could circle him with your arms more easily. You knew it was the right moment, and you hugged him closer, then, without any other hesitation, you kissed him.  
You didn’t have the time to think about it, you knew you had to break the ice and try to remove the wall of awkwardness that had built between you two in the last few hours, and a kiss was just the right thing for that job.

You had thought about what it could feel like, to kiss Sam, in some of those fantasies you had when you first met the boys, you had thought about those lips of his, but never really considered what it would have felt like to catch him by surprise. He was soft and sharp at the same time, and warm, like he had swallowed a campfire. He hesitated a moment, but just one, before kissing you back, almost on instinct you would have said, and when he did he didn’t hold back.

You felt him respond gently at first, but soon the kiss became urgent and hungry, and you felt him grab you by your waist to hold you closer. He tasted like coffee and warmth and when his teeth grazed your lips you bit his lower lip in response, earning a surprised groan from him that made you shiver from head to toes.  
This was not how you imagined he would kiss at all.  
It was going to be really interesting.

You broke the kiss slowly but firmly, and you stepped away just enough to be standing properly. You smiled and didn’t give him the time to react, overthink or go back to being all awkward: it was time to get ready for the ritual.

You smiled and watched him clear his voice and take a step back.  
“Ok, time to get ready. I need a shower and I need to concentrate for a bit. I’ll see you here in twenty minutes, ok?”

“Oh… yeah, sure.”

He did that thing with his hands again, wiping them on the back of his jeans.

“Oh, and, Sam?” You started walking upstairs, towards the room they had given you and towards the showers.

“Yes?”

“I suggest you come back with just a towel on as well. Clothes aren’t really necessary and oil is a bitch to wash off plaid.”

You left him looking puzzled, standing in the center of the basement.

“Oil?”

***

 

When you came down, twenty minutes later, Dean and Castiel were back.

The angel was taking his place, while Dean held the door open and casually leaned over the wall with a smile. When he saw you coming down the stairs with just a towel on, he widened his smile and wiggled his eyebrows.  
Yes, you definitely liked Dean: you were sure he wasn’t feeling half as lighthearted and playful as he was trying to show, and yet he was making the effort, because he knew how everything was already heavily messed up at the moment.

 

“Nice toga there… It looks so much better on you than on Sammy, believe me. He’s in here, by the way, having his nervous breakdown.”

You smiled at him, feeling much more relaxed and calm than half an hour before. You were centered and ready and you were starting to drift into that headspace you went when you did magic. 

Dean moved from the door and gestured you to go inside.

“I’ll be out there, ready for any surprise your little show might attract. I’d like to give you a good luck hug, but I have the feeling you wouldn’t be happy about it.”

You nodded, keeping your smile on, and you let it reach your eyes, to let him know that you really appreciated the way he was acting.

“Yes, that would be a bad idea… I’d love the hug, but you know, you could ruin my toga.”

_Plus, the Mark of Cain could scramble my concentration so bad that I could burst into flames, instead of igniting the spell, so I’ll take a raincheck on that…_

You didn’t need to tell him that. He knew. When this was over, you could try and find a way to help him, if there was one.  
But first, you had another Winchester to deal with.

Said Winchester was at the center of the sigil, wearing just a towel, with his hair still damp from the shower, and was looking absolutely stunning.  
You knew Sam was hot, but you had not realized how much, until that moment. You had to take a second to look at him, because, really, there was a lot to look at, and suddenly the idea of what was about to happen hit you hard. Not in a bad way, you were not exactly shy or unwilling, but for a moment you felt a bit of self consciousness, quickly overpowered by a sense of excitement that made your pulse race.

 

You walked into the circle, careful not to step on the symbols traced on the floor, and you reached Sam at the center of the sigil.  
“Ready?” you asked him.

He nodded, and he looked very solemn and tense.

His role in the spell was not as complex as yours, but he was going to have to be very focused and centered as well. Luckily, you had no difficulties preparing him for what he had to do, like you thought before, he was a natural at this, and when you felt that he was ready, you turned back to look at the angel.

Castiel didn’t need any preparation, he was standing at the edge of the circle, just barely inside it, in sigils that fanned out from him to the rest of the complicated pattern you had drawn earlier, with his help. The buzzing energy emanating from him felt more powerful, now, and you could feel it crawling on your skin, like an electrical tension all around you.

Castiel looked at you and nodded, signaling you he was ready to begin, and when you met his blue gaze, you found no awkwardness or judgment there. To him this was just a magic ritual, a way to achieve a purpose, the binding and bending of energy, and you knew that you had nothing to worry about him feeling uncomfortable with what he was going to witness. That gave you the spur you needed to put things in motion.

You felt perfectly in control, right now, and you cherished the sensation, because you knew you’d have to lose much of that control for what you were going to do from now on.  
You took a deep breath and turned towards Sam.

 

The first touch of your hand on Sam’s shoulder was light, trying to ease him into the sensation of the magic working through your fingers into the oil on his skin, but he shivered anyway.  
You went on, tracing the symbols on his skin,walking the circle of sigils, chanting the words you had translated from the scroll, and every time you closed a circuit you felt Sam growing more present, more real, at the center of the pentagram. It was like he was a fire, flickering, growing stronger, warmer, feeding on magic for fuel, and you could feel him gravitate the spell he was now part of, like you were all pieces of a complicated clockwork mechanism.

You removed your towel and laid it at your feet, walking on it to reach Sam and you felt him perfectly steady when you removed the white cloth from his hips. He was feeling the power from the spell and he had no uncertainty in his eyes. Good.

The next chanted lines of the spell left your lips and you felt something tense and vibrate in the air around you: it was time to begin the difficult part of that gig, and this part was all on you.

You gathered your energy, turned around, and lit the herbs in the bowl.

Suddenly you felt a monstrous pressure crushing you down, like you were abruptly transported to the bottom of an ocean. You gritted your teeth and raised your arms: it was painful and glorious at the same time, all that raw power leashed to you, you could have flattened out a mountain, exploded the moon, with that kind of force, but you needed to ignite it first, to channel it and then tame it, to make it do your bidding. You had to reach to Castiel, immediately, or the spell was going to backfire.

The Enochian words left your lips in a blur, almost too fast, but the Angel was there to catch them and you just had to let the power flow to him, now, and then go on with the remaining part of the ritual. You just had to let go.  
You could not.  
You felt like all that energy had grown roots inside of you and you didn’t want to let go, couldn’t let go.  
You were all going to die.

Then you felt him, at your back, warm like a river of lava, coming to melt you, to ease you into the right direction, and when his hand touched the base of your spine, you felt a jolt of strength, a sudden dominion over all that power, and you just let it all out.

 

With Sam’s hand on your axis, you used his heat to melt the power away from you and towards the angel, Castiel, now ready to take it and start waving it, changing it around you, and in less than a heartbeat, it was done. The hard part was over.  
Now all you had to do was building enough energy to transform that power and direct it, with the help of an angel, towards your goal. Easy peasy.

Sam’s hand on your back was heavy and you could feel his breath coming out labored and warm on your skin. You spun around and he took you head into his hands, crashing down on you with a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, nothing even remotely gentle, but demanding and so hot that it resonated deeply with your core, making your legs tremble. You kissed him back with force and then started mapping his body with your hands.  
From his shoulders to his chest, over his heart beating so fast, until you reached his stomach and stepped away, just to let your eyes caress him all over, like your hands had just done.  
You stepped back and the look in his eyes made you shiver. There was nothing left of the awkward gentleness you had seen so far, his gaze was predatory and raw, and in that moment you felt like you had invited a lion in your den, convinced it was going to be your prey. You had been wrong in judging him before, and you were about to find out how much.

He took a step forward and you instinctively took one back, almost tripping on the towel at your feet.

You didn’t fall, he caught you with one of his arms around your waist, and you suddenly felt small, with him towering over you. It was the power of the spell, you thought, but there was something more, something under all that energy radiating from both of you, something that was him and nothing more, and that something was wild and desperate and you felt like it was going to burn you out.  
You had no objection to that.

 

With a flex of his arm, Sam lifted you for a second and then you felt him lower the both of you to the ground, just before you felt his mouth lace on one of your nipples. He sucked hard, tearing a loud moan out of you and making you quiver. You hands found his hair, looking for something to hold on to, and you heard him groan against your skin, when you gripped and pulled.  
He climbed back up to you, and his tongue forced his way into your mouth. You were both trying to devour each other, it was something more primal than a kiss, it was power fighting to find a way to build.

You scratched your nails on his back and he sighed, a sound of relief and satisfaction, like you had relieved some pressure inside him, but when he took your wrists and pinned them over your head, you saw nothing but hunger in his eyes.  
You tried to move, you wanted to touch him as much as physically possible, but his grip was solid, even when he moved one of his hands away, to follow a trail down your chest, between your breasts and directly to your core. You were trying to raise your hips, looking for more contact, for something to ease the need you felt, but you stopped as soon as he brushed your labia with his hand. He moved, circling you slowly and getting closer and closer with each spiraling movement of his fingers, moving down your body with his lips, in a trail of bites and kisses, until he brushed your clit with his tongue, just lightly.

You didn’t even realize he had left your hands free.

“Sam!”

You jolted up, feeling his tongue licking at your folds, only to fall back down when he raised your hips, lifting half of your body from the ground.

You could sense the energy of the spell building up, gathering in both of you, as you felt your pleasure coil tightly, ready to be released all over you.  
It was too soon, and you knew it, you needed to come together and not before all the power you could gather was in your hands.

He chose that moment to send you dangerously close, entering with two of his fingers and then biting you, just a little shy of painfully, on your inner thigh.

You decided it was time to turn things over, before you came completely undone, and as soon as he let you have any purchase with your feet, you tumbled over, rolling you both so that you could climb on top of him.

 

He smiled at you from the floor, and his smile was nothing like the friendly smiles you had exchanged in the past, it was a temporary clemency, a nod, a challenge and it was feral, like the grin of a big cat.

You climbed his thigh with your hand, while you descended on him, taking the time to smell his skin while you did it, inhaling the scent of sweat and arousal and something hot and sweet, like some kind of wood or nut, something that was underneath the oil and the smell of soap on his skin, something more personal, his own true scent, that matched the taste of his skin perfectly.

When you reached down with your hand, your lips were there to meet you fingers on his cock and you took a moment to trace it lightly, base to point with your palm, point to base with your lips, just a butterfly kiss, just barely there, feeling him shiver underneath you and inhale sharply. 

You took him in your mouth slowly, circling your tongue along his shaft, and, honestly, you couldn’t have done it anything but slowly, considering the size of it. You took as much as you could, then sucked sharply, while slowly pulling off, and you felt him twitch in your mouth, while his hips jerked upwards in small involuntary movements.

“Fuck, ____!” 

He ran a hand through your hair and followed your movements for a moment, then you felt him tug sharply and you were pulled up, to meet him halfway in another of those biting kisses.  
He tasted like you, now, and you knew he could taste himself on your tongue, and he let you know he liked it, moaning in your mouth with a deep rumble.

 

It was like a circuit: your taste on him, his on you, meeting each other, you could sense the power building up, and you both needed to complete that circuit soon.  
He felt it too, apparently, because he sat up, keeping you on his lap, and pressed you against him, spreading your legs just by pushing you, holding you and thrusting sharply against your clit.

“Oh fuck, Sam…”  
You felt you orgasm begin to build once more, and this time stronger, like the power you were rising.

He gripped your thighs and lifted you up, positioning himself at your entrance, and then he dragged you down, forcefully, entering you in one overwhelming motion.  
You couldn’t breath, for a second, and it hurt, but you really didn’t care. Stretched open, all around him, you felt him fight to keep still, you felt it in his arms that were holding you so tight you knew you were going to have bruises all over.  
You had your head buried in the crook of his neck, and you realized in that moment that you were biting him, almost breaking through his skin. You let go and opened your eyes to look at him. He had his eyes closed and his lips were parted, so you claimed them and whispered directly on his mouth  
“Fuck me, Sam… God, fuck me, please!”

It was like a lightning bolt hit him, he shot up on his knees, holding you in place and moved you up and down on him, fucking you on him, moving your whole body to match his thrusts. Then he shifted his weight and you found yourself lying down, his hand under one your knees, and the other balled in your hair,and you felt his thrusts, each one harder than the other, hit a spot inside you and your orgasm starting to break his bounds.

You threw your head back, just when you felt him bit at your neck and starting to lose his rhythm, you looked up, behind you both, and met the angel’s gaze.

Castiel was glowing, his grace seeping through his vessel’s skin, and he had his eyes fixed on you, with a look that was more of wonder than concentration, one that you’d have called of passion if it wasn’t on him. You had barely the time to see him open his hands and let out a choked sound, because then Sam brought his hips forward with a long, dragging movement, and you felt yourself dissolve.

You raked Sam’s back with your nails, screaming, and you felt him coming inside you, pulling your orgasm with his. Your walls clenching around him were dragging his release longer, harder, like a circle of power finally being closed and then unleashed all around you, above and below, and out, towards Castiel, that now was a part of your circuit and was weaving all that magic through his grace and onward, shooting through the sigils and aiming at your purpose, hitting the mark, and finally ready to accomplish your goal.

You came down from your pleasure, with Sam collapsed on top of you. You felt boneless, spent, but your skin crackled with energy, with magic, and you knew Sam felt the same.  
You could feel him breathe and twitch slightly inside of you, and every twitch sent sparks over your oversensitive nerves. When he moved, trying to hoist himself on his arms, it sent a jolt of pleasure through your core, and you felt yourself clench hard around him.

“Oh god…” he groaned, while he pushed involuntarily, once more, into you. It hurt, not a bad hurt, it was actually almost blissful, but it was too much, too soon, and you felt the power of the spell ready and at your service: you had to act now.

You kissed him, and for the first time it was sweet, calm, and short, like a goodbye kiss. Then he disentangled himself and you felt a sense of loss when he finally moved away from you, collapsing on the floor at your side.

 

You smiled at him, then looked at Castiel, still standing behind you, and you took the hand he was offering to help you stand up.  
It took you a second to find a steady position, but when you did, you looked around you, and you saw it: the spell was done, perfectly weaved and composed like embroidered energy, you just had to close the ritual.  
You smiled at Castiel, and he gave you a nod. You took your step towards him and gently kissed him on the lips.

You felt the magic unleash, you felt everything: there was an angel standing beside you, a man at your feet, a tortured soul just behind the door, a king of Hell watching from afar, and you were the center of it all.

It was time to help the boys save the world.


End file.
